Baby, you're mine
by BleachedAi
Summary: 'working as the assistant for one of America's top male model magazines wasn't as glamorous as most would think.' Shirosaki Ogichi, America's most successful model. Unfortunately for Ichigo, Shirosaki wasn't as charming as the interviews made out.


Baby, you're mine. 

**Chapter one: frustration.**

Summary: 'working as the assistant for one of America's top male model magazines wasn't as glamorous as most would think.' Shirosaki Ogichi is one of America's most successful models, unfortunately for Ichigo, Shirosaki wasn't as charming as the interviews made out. When it came to all things infuriating and demanding Shirosaki was it, but sadly for the orangette he couldn't help but desire the white haired millionaire. YAOI.

Disclaimer: I do not own the amazing anime, Bleach. Sadly, if I did every episode would just be Ichigo and Shirosaki performing various pole dancing techniques. ;D

...

The loud clack of his bosses dress shoes caused the orangette to instantly straighten up. The polished black heel met the glossy white linoleum flooring, every morning this noise echoed throughout the lobby causing every working being to flurry about staking various papers, or even slipping on their best accessory to impress the assertive albino.

Ichigo had worked for said man for nearly a year now. He guessed he was lucky to have a good friend working within the building thus been able to get the job, but working as the assistant for one of America's top male model magazines wasn't as glamorous as most would think. It was grueling, Ichigo had almost quit countless times purely due to his bosses bureaucratic attitude, but Ichigo guessed that Shirosaki must be doing something right, after all he had owned the firm for over four years.

At a total age of twenty four Shirosaki was a millionaire, everybody knew him. And most of all everybody wanted him. Not only did he run one of the best magazines in America, _he was one of the best models. _When Ichigo first met the man he was lost for words literally, the young orangette had idolized Shirosaki, pinning up posters of the model in his bedroom. After the first week of work all said posters had vanished.

It wasn't that the albino was well…irritating…no there was that too. To put it frankly Ichigo disliked the man greatly. Purely for the fact that he pissed him off too well, and he still managed to look absolutely fantastic whilst doing it. So been angry with him just didn't work. But Ichigo guessed that was expected, after all he had been voted America's most sexiest man countless times. Gorgeous bastard.

The orangette let his nails run through his head of spikes before pushing back his fringe. Giving one last look at the door which lead into the lobby Ichigo attempted to make himself look busy.

Within seconds the loud clacking started again and the glass door opened slowly. Ichigo tried not to look up but when he spotted a flash of pale skin out of the corner of his eye he couldn't help it.

"What a glorious mornin' eh Ichigo? God ya' look awful!" Shirosaki chimed giving Ichigo one brief once over. "Mm. I was up most of the night finishing up on the papers you wanted." Ichigo mumbled taking a sip of his morning coffee. Honestly, the orangette was surprised Shirosaki still wanted him around, after all nobody in the building would talk to the albino like that.

"Why? They don't have ta' be in till next week!" the albino smirked flicking the wad of paper with his black painted nail. Murderous brown orbs fell onto molten gold. Ichigo felt ready to slug the gorgeous bastard in the face if it wasn't for Shirosaki's office phone ringing of course.

"What are ya' waitin' fer? Go answer it! Jeez!" Shirosaki huffed flicking his wrist as an order. The orangette stood quickly and obeyed his boss like a dog would to his master. Unknown to Ichigo, it gave Shirosaki some sick satisfaction to see Ichigo running around for him. He loved ticking off his personal assistant. Purely for the fact that the scowl on the orangette's face was priceless, not to mention insanely sexy.

Shirosaki had searched endlessly for a model to pull of that look simply because he knew he wouldn't be the only person to get worked up by that scowl. But, his attempt had proved futile. He had wanted to employ Ichigo as one of his models, but he knew if he did that he'd never see much of the tan boy. And he didn't really fancy sharing Ichigo with a crowd of squealing girls and boys anyways.

"It's Marci, she wants to discuss the November shoot." the object of the albino's thoughts popped his head out from his office, that trademark scowl still there making Shirosaki's grin widen.

"Tell er' ta' ring Uryu, do a' look like a' belong behind a fuckin' sewing machine?" Every time that woman rang the conversation always lead to organizing a 'date' or swapping 'personal phone numbers'. Every time the albino came up with an excuse, he didn't fancy leaving the office early due to a date, he wanted to stay as late as possible just to watch Ichigo working his fine ass off.

Ichigo sighed politely telling the woman to ring Uryu, the man that designed the models outfits. The woman seemed to ring Shirosaki often. From what Ichigo had seen the albino had been forced to have to tell her several times that this wasn't the place for her to ring, but she still continued to blow up the bosses phone.

"Hey Ichigo?" Shirosaki peered over into the office door with a snowy fine eyebrow raised. Ichigo's head snapped up from Shirosaki's large glass desk. "Where's mah' coffee and fruit?" Shirosaki smirked as he watched Ichigo's features morph from mild frustration into worry. "Shit!" the orangette cussed out before scampering for the door.

Shirosaki grabbed the boys shoulders causing the boy to halt. Running his nails over the soft tan skin Shirosaki slowly began massaging the red heads tense shoulders. "Loosen up, Ichigo." Shirosaki stated simply before adding, "Stressing out aint' gonna get ya' a bigger salary. If anythin' it'll lower it." he didn't want the boy thinking he was going soft after all.

Tugging himself roughly away from Shirosaki's hands he scowled at the boy once again and quickly escaped from the mans office grabbing his coat.

Shirosaki grinned watching Ichigo's tight fitting behind as the boy literally stormed out the office. That scowl, damn it was one of the best he had seen. The albino fell back against his door and ran his hand through his hair. From the moment Ichigo walked in for the interview, Shirosaki had decided that Ichigo would be his.

His last assistant had quit due to Shirosaki's sour mood that was unremitting. But after meeting Ichigo it brightened up greatly. He hadn't put the moves on Ichigo yet simply because he didn't want the boy to quit. He needed Ichigo to trust him, and of course enjoy his company. Because no matter how much it pissed the albino off to admit it, he knew Ichigo disliked him. But who wouldn't when you were constantly ordered around and torn into. The white haired boy had assumed Ichigo would lighten up after a year of working for him, but saying that the orangette probably thought Shirosaki would stop fucking with him.

If Shirosaki had a choice he wouldn't be rude to Ichigo. But he had a business to run, if he got all soft now it wouldn't do anybody any good. He had to be honest, if Ichigo lightened up even the slightest and made more of an effort to be kind to him Shirosaki would do the same. Perhaps, he'd make his feelings clear too.

...

New York fucking city. What a riot. Ichigo gripped the coffee in his tightly not caring the slightest that it was burning his hand, the taxi horns blaring around him seemed to be taking up all his concentration. He didn't fancy getting run over just because of Shirosaki's damn coffee and strawberries!

Rushing across the car jammed road Ichigo finally made it to the other side of the road. Wiping the light sheen of sweat from his forehead Ichigo continued his walk. Why oh why did he grab his coat?

Another five minutes of running passed before the orangette found himself back in front of the glorious skyscraper that all belonged to Shirosaki Ogichi. Stepping into the building the twenty four year old quickly scampered towards the lift praying that nobody would hold him back.

Luckily for him he had managed to make it up to the tenth top floor without any disturbances. Slipping into the lobby he gave Rukia a small smile before returning to his office. Tugging off his coat and chucking it into his chair Ichigo approached Shirosaki's door and knocked before opening it.

To say that Shirosaki was surprised to see Ichigo back so quickly wouldn't be a lie. But what really got him was the tan skin that was covered in a layer of sweat accompanied by a deep red flush. The orangette placed the coffee and tub of strawberries on the edge of Shirosaki's desk next to his phone. Shirosaki really couldn't believe what he was seeing, Ichigo's sweat damped fringe stuck to the boys forehead.

The clothes he was wearing didn't really help either. A tight white button up shirt. Almost as if the boy read his mind Ichigo popped open three of his buttons revealing a large section of wet tan muscle. Shirosaki crossed his legs attempting to hide the obvious sign of his arousal.

"Is that ok?" Ichigo asked panting slightly. He wished he hadn't ran through the streets, he had attempted to get his breath back in the elevator but clearly it didn't work. Swallowing thickly when Shirosaki didn't reply he raised an eyebrow at the white haired model who seemed to be looking anywhere but at him.

"Sir?" Ichigo attempted to professional approach. Squeezing his legs together Shirosaki bit his lip before meeting eyes with Ichigo. And oh man he wished he hadn't because the orangette was now openly panting. It had Shirosaki thinking back to one of the many dreams he had about himself and the gorgeous male.

"Y-yes, that's fine Ichi-go." Shirosaki swallowed dismissing the teen with a flick of his hand. He needed Ichigo out of his office, otherwise he was going to bend the other over his table, clearly fancying himself a different type of strawberry.


End file.
